


Best Laid Plans

by dark_descent



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Coitus Interruptus, Established Relationship, F/F, I'll add to the tag as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_descent/pseuds/dark_descent
Summary: The one where nothing goes according to plan a.k.a the three times sex does not go as planned and the one time it does.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter 1

You coughed again and groaned. 

You were not getting sick. 

You could not be sick. 

You had plans. With Villanelle. You've just had two fun-filled days of nursing a hot, sore throat with every suckable object you could fit into your mouth. By the time you stepped out of the shower this morning, you had begun to feel that unmistakable crawling ant hill feeling somewhere deep inside your nasal cavity. The fun was just beginning.

Villanelle was on her way to London right now, her flight scheduled to land any minute now. You'll be seeing her, in person, after four long months, and Villanelle was very clear about the fact that they were not getting out of bed tonight.

Hearing her voice, the husky tone it took on when Villanelle was aroused, when she was trying to arouse and seduce and please, you had gotten goosebumps. Hearing her voice, seeing her image through a computer screen, just wasn't enough anymore. 

Carolyn had offered your job back in MI6. "I could really use that brain of yours, Eve," she'd said. Coming from Carolyn, that was high praise, and you had accepted. But they were going to stay away from the Twelve, for now. It seemed like everyone around them was either working for the Twelve or were part of the Twelve, and Carolyn had decided that it was in their best interest to not pursue any leads, not until they had something more to work with.

Carolyn had also taken up Villanelle on her offer to come work for MI6. "I'd prefer if the two of you weren't running around being distracted by each other. Besides, I think your niche skills would be a real asset," is how Carolyn had put it. 

Carolyn had sent Villanelle off on an undercover assignment to Belfast to look into a farmer who was running a chicken farm that definitely did not generate enough income to justify the round trips to Paris every few months and the lavish three-story house. Carolyn was not one to micromanage, she'd give you an assignment coded in metaphors and the rest, well, you'd have to figure it out. Villanelle seemed to enjoy the no-holds-barred approach, and Carolyn didn't really care how she got it done, as long as Villanelle got her the results she wanted. 

But Villanelle was finally on her way back, after four long months away and you were getting antsy. Four months was a long time. Four months since you'd kissed her. Four months since you'd felt her hands on your skin. You had initially convinced yourself that distance would do you both some good. Maybe the long-distance sex would be fun and hot. And so it was. At first.

But the longer you were apart, the harder it became—the less exciting, the less forbidden. 

When phone sex lost its thrill, Villanelle attempted to convince you to do the mutual masturbation thing via Skype. And that had its positives--being able to see and hear each other at the same time--but also its negatives--being reminded very distinctly about the things you were missing. 

One time Villanelle had even recorded a video of herself, and that had been an evening you wouldn't soon forget. You'd sat on the bed, clothed in nothing but your bra and underwear, and watched as Villanelle touched herself, as Villanelle's hands traced lines your fingers ached to follow. You'd watched Villanelle tease and tease and tease until she'd been panting from her own ministrations, and then, your throat dry and your own body buzzing with arousal, you'd watched as Villanelle slid her fingers slowly, slowly inside. 

Watched her run her fingers through her folds, watch her roll the hard nub of her clit between her fingers, circle the tip ever so softly in the way that always made her pant with desire. You'd watched, hands clenched, as Villanelle thrust her fingers in, held her breath as Villanelle slowly pulled it back out and watched her spread more of her wetness over her. You'd watched her hand move through a series of elaborate manoeuvres that you struggled to memorise.   
Around the clit, slow then fast, then stop and do it again. Then press down hard, and that makes her gasp real loud, so you mentally made a note of it, so you never forget. You'd watched her do this over and over again, faster and harder until you saw her whole body tense and snap, biting her lip and crying out on-screen. Until she collapsed back onto the pillows behind her, breath ragged, and you leaned forward to kiss those swollen lips, to lick the faint trace of blood on her lip, so lost in the vision, you'd forgotten it wasn't real. 

That had been last week. 

Despite the fact that you could almost taste the blood on Villanelle's lips, could definitely smell the scent of arousal in the air, you couldn't bring yourself to reciprocate. Not for Villanelle. Not for yourself. 

You couldn't bring yourself to touch your breasts, your clit, to slide your fingers deep, deep home, and fuck yourself until you, too, cried out in ecstasy. You just couldn't. You decided to wait, to wait until the weekend when Villanelle was scheduled to fly in. 

And you did. 

Despite the voicemails from Villanelle detailing precisely what she wanted to do to you. Because, of course, you'd told Villanelle your decision and then the Villanelle, being the dick that she was, became determined to see if she could inspire you to break your own rules.

You wake up more than once from an incredibly hot dream to find yourself on your stomach, thrusting your hips into the bed, or on your back, your hands in your underwear and fingers slipping against you wet, wet sex. 

Somehow, you managed.

And now?   
Now you are incredibly horny.  
And hot.   
But that's from the fever you running.

A terrible noise that is halfway between a cough and a sneeze wracks through your body, and you moan pitifully. The pinched woman sitting across from you scowls like you are the biggest ass alive for not taking your cold somewhere less populated.

Dammit. You wanted to have sex today.

You feel miserable. You're not sure if the fogginess in your head is due to the congestion or the constant state of arousal you've been in for the past several days. It hurts to breathe--it hurts to move. 

You just want to curl up in bed with her, but you are not entirely sure whether you want sex more or Villanelle's body heat to stave off the chills that keep running up and down your body. 

Finally, you see that bobbing Villanelle head of hair. And no matter how terrible you feel, you smile. 

"Eve," Villanelle says, and you almost weep at the sound of her voice, "you look terrible. Are you okay?"

Now you do weep. You are obviously sick now, even you can't deny it anymore, but Villanelle's here, she's wrapping you up into a tight, warm hug, and nothing, nothing is better than that.

"I hab a code."

"A cold? Eve, you're burning up--give me the car keys, let's get you into bed." 

Before you can hand them over, Villanelle shoves her hands into the pockets of your jeans and digs around until she finds it. She gives your ass a quick squeeze on her way out of your pockets. Or maybe that's just your brain imagining things. 

At some point during the ride home, you start feeling sorry for yourself, and when Villanelle asked you what was wrong, you start sobbing in frustration about _how miserable you feel, and how happy you are to see her, and how everything's so hot, and she's so hot, and how all you want to do is have sex with her because you fucking need to come, but everything hurts, and you don't want her to get hotter by getting her sick and how you just want to curl up into a ball because everything is ruined._

You realize you are babbling, and you're embarrassed because you know she is going to bring it up later and tease you endlessly. She puts her hand on your thigh, and you can feel the heat of it through your jeans, and she tells you how nothing is ruined, that you have all the time in the world now. 

You finally reach your apartment, and Villanelle leads you into the bathroom, and the two of you take a quick, warm shower. You resist at first, the thought of water on your skin makes you want to climb into bed and never wake up. But when she carefully, softly washes your body, you have to admit, it does feel pretty darn good. You feel fresh and clean.

She gently dries you up and slips your fluffy nightie over your head. She had hated it the first time she saw you in it, but she'd grown to love it eventually for the easy access it gave her to your body. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd awoken to her head between your legs.

"You know what I'd like you to do, Eve?"

You feel your head pound at that husky voice.

She produces a small jar of Vicks from the nightstand. "Lay down?"

"That's a little kinky, wouldn't you say?" you tease, followed by a monstrous cough that makes you feel like you just coughed up your insides.

She sits you on the bed and makes you slide forward so she can climb high atop the pillows behind you. Her legs bracket your back, perhaps not in the way you intended, but the night is still young. 

She unbuttons the first few buttons on your nightgown, and puts a thin greasy film across your chest, and rubs it in vigorously. 

Your head tips back in ecstasy. "God, that feels great. I can almost breathe."

It does, indeed, feel great. The menthol has raised the nerves on your skin, and you can acutely feel her fingers rubbing and flexing across your chest like she's really enjoying it. It's like massage therapy on acid. 

She slips from behind you and lays you back on the bed, easing you into the pillows. You don't know if it's intentional or not, but as she is plumping up the pillows for you, she takes care to lean over deliberately, giving you an eyeful of her cleavage. You moan appreciatively and caress the silk on her hip.

She's leaning over you wearing some silky grey thing, which you're sure isn't meant to be grey, but your diseased vision is registering even *fewer* colors than usual tonight. Still, she looks so incredibly sexy. Those gorgeous breasts are spilling out over the scalloped lace, and you'd love to throw her down and consume every inch of her, but you are so tired and drowsy, the medicines finally kicking in that you only manage to clumsily grope her through the silk. 

"I missed you," she says as she snuggles up behind you, wrapping her arms around you. You feel the soft warmth of her breasts against your shoulder blades and start feeling sorry for yourself once again. This was not how you'd hoped this day would go. But even with you feeling like this, you are so glad she is finally here.

"I missed you so much," she says again.

You'd respond, but you're already drifting off and mumbling," I'll make it up to you. I Promise."

*****************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love writing about the two of them having toe-curling sex, sometimes things never go according to plan. I've always thought that this would be a fun premise to explore.  
> As always, your reviews and feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"It's Saturday, Eve. Why are we still here?" You rock back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

"Work. You know, the reason why Carolyn called us here in the first place." Eve kept her face buried in the document she was perusing.

"But, it could have waited until after the weekend."

"We can go home as soon as I'm done reviewing this document. I promise." There wasn't even an attempt at sincerity in her tone as she began to scribble on a pad.

"Since when did you become teacher's pet?" You wonder what she was she doing over there that was so much more interesting than you?  
You lean forward, trying to peer over at Eve's desk. Eh, looked mind-numbingly boring.

You look over at Eve again, and could have sworn she was trying not to smile.

They'd last had sex...when was it? Four months ago? It had taken Eve almost the entire week to recover from her cold. 4 days and 8 hours to be precise. It was not your choice to wait this long. You were desperate to show Eve how much you missed her, but she was adamant. She was not going to let you get sick as well and insisted that she was going to sleep on the couch until she was back to normal.  
She was being a little dramatic with the distancing, but you didn't think you were going to convince Eve otherwise when she got like that. But after four, almost five days, Eve was finally feeling like her usual self, and you'd decided to celebrate by planning a romantic Saturday night dinner, you'd even cooked! But all you could squeeze in was an intense session of heavy petting on the couch before fucking Carolyn had interrupted it all.

You just missed Eve so terribly.

You watch Eve run her fingers through her hair while nibbling on her lower lip. Without conscious knowledge, you imitate the action on your own lower lip, imagining it to be Eve's.

Concentrate on something else, literally anything else. Since at the moment you found it physically impossible to tear your gaze away from Eve, you'd just have to concentrate on her less provocative assets.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a single part of her that didn't turn you on. Even her hands, so beautiful, and delicate, from the graceful arch of her wrist to the tips of her fingers.  
Not to mention that your mind vividly brought to the forefront, the memory of what those hands were so good at doing.

You are doused in the cold water of reality when Eve asks you if you'd started on the report.

You look at the pile of paperwork on the desk. "Uh...no?"

"One of these days – "

"You're going to shove me up against the wall and punish me?" you suggest hopefully.

"– you're going to give me a heart attack when you answer 'yes' to that question."

"Not going to happen anytime soon, Eve," you assure her.

You thought you hear Eve mumble something about karma, but you couldn't be sure.

You hear her sigh, and for the first time, you notice – or thought you notice – lines of tension around her eyes.

"Want a neck rub?" You offer. At this point, you are not thinking about anything more than that; Eve looks tired, and she always appreciated a neck rub now and then. Of course, that was usually done in private, but you don't think it is a big deal — just a neck rub.

"That would be good," Eve murmured.

You make your way to where Eve sat behind her desk, and stand behind her, looking down at the top of her head, thinking once again that she was entirely too beautiful from any angle. Leaning down, you place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, taking the opportunity to take in her scent.

You feel Eve stiffen a little under your hands from the kiss, and you immediately straighten. You know she is not comfortable with public displays of affection. But they weren't in public; they were in a room at the end of the hall on a floor that hardly anyone visited. It wasn't even a kiss you defend yourself, just your lips brushing against Eve's hair.

You place your thumbs at the junction of Eve's neck and shoulders and begin with slow, hard strokes, the way you know she likes it. Eve's head bobs gently forward as she allows herself to relax and fully enjoy what you were doing.

Slowly, you work your way up the column of Eve's neck, pressing your thumbs firmly against the tight muscles. She moans a little, and you feel a thrumming desire blossom low in your stomach. You are far too used to hearing that moan under different circumstances.

Your hands return to the tense muscles of her shoulders, which had loosened considerably. You can also tell by the humming noise coming from Eve's throat that you have at least brought her these few moments of relief.

Another breathy moan and you find yourself rubbing up against Eve's chair. "Feel good?" you ask, surprised at how unsteady your voice sounds.

"Mmmm," Eve answers, the sound making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

"Good," you whisper. With every strenuous rub your hands perform, your lower body rocks forward, creating some blessed friction where you desperately wanted it the most.

You suppose you should feel ashamed that you were practically humping Eve's chair while Eve sat there innocently, believing you are only being nice. In your defense, you truly did not have any nefarious intentions when you offered to rub her neck. Once again, however, you had underestimated your need for Eve, your body's automatic response to Eve whenever she was near.

The functioning part of your mind at the moment, however, was clamoring for you to cease and desist. However, the horny part of your brain didn't allow for many thoughts, so you lean down and plant a kiss on the soft skin of her neck. And another. And another.

It was also this other part that told you that Eve's skin would probably taste sweet and salty at the same time and encouraged your tongue to reach out and find out for sure. Yep, it was true.

It was also this other part that told you to suck gently on Eve's skin until you elicited a moan from her throat – and you did.

You lift your lips from Eve's neck, noticing that her muscles had tensed again, and her breathing was uneven.

You didn't even know you were going to speak until the words had been said. "Ladies' room. Two minutes. Now."

In the period between your demand and Eve's answer, your head clears a bit – maybe doing this in the MI6 headquarters was not a very smart thing to do. But before you can rescind the demand, to your utter disbelief, Eve gives you a short nod, without looking at you, then got up and left.

Well, fuck me.

After you'd had gotten over the shock, you feel such an urgent surge of need ripple through you that you don't think you would last another minute.

Eve was actually going to do it. Eve was going to let you fuck her in the ladies' room of the fucking MI6 Headquarters. At the office. Eve's admission of her desire, of her need, sends tremors of excitement jolting through you. That she would overlook professionalism, throw all caution to the wind, and do this completely stupid thing with you, was unbelievably sexy.  
You'd never been so turned on in your life.

You nearly trip over a box as you rush out, narrowly escaping concussing yourself on the edge of a desk.

You had chosen the ladies' room because it was closest and because you'd never really seen anyone pass by to use this particular ladies' room. But what drove you wild with desire was the fact from now on, whenever Eve went into the ladies' room, she would remember this event. As would you.

You make a vow right then and there that this was going to be the hottest, most erotic, unforgettable sex that you could give Eve. After you were through today, she wouldn't be able to walk into that room without soaking her underwear.

That thought sends more blood rushing between your legs, making you grit your teeth. You are aroused to the point of pain.

Standing in front of the door to the ladies' room, you take a deep breath. What if another woman was in there besides Eve? But if there was another woman in there, Eve would no doubt be outside to warn you. You push gently; the hinges squeaking a little as they give way slightly. There didn't seem to be anyone inside, as far as you can tell, but you couldn't see very much. You push a little harder, opening the door a little more.

It occurs to you that if there was someone other than Eve there, it'd look a whole lot worse if they caught you peeping in rather than if you were just to walk in normally. However, before you can put this plan into action, the door swings rapidly away from you, causing you to pitch forward and stumble into the room.

Before you even wrap your brain around what just happened, you find yourself slammed up against the wall with Eve's tongue down your throat. You eagerly respond in kind, and the kiss quickly spirals out of control. It turns frantic in the blink of an eye; all teeth and tongues, and breathy moans swallowed before they can entirely escape; hands groping wildly, and fingers pushing and pulling at clothing as they urgently search for the warmth of soft, smooth, skin.

You think you taste blood, but whether it was Eve's or your own, you didn't know, and it didn't matter. You felt wild, out of control, and best of all, Eve seemed to feel the same way.

You feel dizzy and drunk on Eve as you nip your way across her jaw before you initiate another kiss. You grip her by the chin, and when she opens her mouth, you thrust your tongue inside, it's sloppy, and a lot dirty, but you don't care.

Quickly, you reverse your positions. As much as you occasionally enjoy submitting to Eve, you weren't going to give her the satisfaction this time. You hear her grunt when she hits the wall a little too hard, but you don't apologize, and Eve doesn't complain. It was perfect. This whole scenario was perfect; there wasn't such a thing as being too rough. It was going to be quick and dirty, the way you both wanted it.

It was funny how they could read each other like that. You wonder when it had started. You wonder why it is so easy to read each other's sexual needs and why sometimes they couldn't do it with the normal stuff.  
You think it is because Eve was unafraid to show one and scared shitless to show the other. That was the difference.

Searching Eve's face, you find it difficult to get past her expressive eyes, darkened by desire, and her hair, which was mussed by careless handling and framed her flushed cheeks.

"Why..." You begin, but the thought rolls out of your head when Eve cups you between your legs and massages you through your pants.

She meets your gaze unwaveringly, wetting her lips with her tongue. It distracts you from her eyes, as you follow the movement hungrily. You see them then curve into a small smile.

Groaning with desire, you bunch up Eve's skirt and slip your hands between her legs, kissing the area right above her still-clothed breasts. You are delighted to feel skin; Eve had undone two extra buttons.

You perch Eve on the edge of the sink in the ladies' room; skirt hiked up around her waist, her legs wrapped around your waist, greedily kissing you.

Kissing and nipping your way up to the base of her neck, you concentrate on that spot for a few moments. You realize you don't have all the time in the world, but this was one of the sweetest spots on Eve, and for you, this was time worth spending.

You barely feel Eve scrabbling with the zipper on your pants as you tear at her pantyhose, unable to find any way to get rid of them. Eve isn't helping either when she grinds herself against your hand like that.

She throws her arms around your shoulders. You take the hint, grabbing her ass with your hands, and pull her flush against you.

"Now, Oksana," she moans into your mouth. "Now, I need you inside me now…"

Well, that was enough time spent on that spot, you suppose. You slide your tongue up the length of Eve's neck, stopping at her chin, kissing her there lightly. You can feel Eve burning through the material of her underwear. You need to be in there right now.

"Fuck!" You growl, tearing at the damn thing.

"What's wrong?" Eve's voice sounds so transformed by lust that it was barely recognizable as hers.

"Nothing, nothing," you latch onto a breast with your mouth. You can feel the hardness of Eve's nipple through her shirt, and you circle it hard with your tongue, wanting to distract her.

Eve gasps and opens her legs a little more, and finally, you feel a hole in the nylon. You take hold of the edge of the hole and yank fiercely at it, finally creating a space big enough to get your hand through. You rip it further, stopping only when you hear her yelp.

Eve's kisses assure you that you hadn't hurt her... or, if you had, that she didn't care. Your fingers finally manage to slip inside the pantyhose, and you shove Eve's underwear aside and drive your fingers frantically into her, setting a fast, furious pace, slamming roughly into her, half expecting Eve to tell you to stop, but knowing that you couldn't. You couldn't stop now if your life depended on it.

It didn't look like Eve could stop either. She opens herself further to you, hooking her legs around your body and pulling you deeper inside her, driving her tongue into your mouth.

Everything felt too intense; sensory overload. You knew Eve was close by the sounds she was making. Come for me, Eve. Right here, right now…

Suddenly you feel her gasp slightly, and her body stiffens. It wasn't an orgasm; you would have felt that.

Pulling back a bit, you look at Eve's face and see that she's staring at the door, entirely still, and that's when you hear the footsteps. High heels, to be exact, traveling quickly, and coming closer.

Fuck.

"I think someone's coming," Eve hisses. Looking around frantically, she pushes you away from her, and into the nearest stall.

"Why do I need to be in here. Why can't we both be in the ladies' room at the same time," you protest.

"Villanelle, don't argue." Eve shuts you up before shutting the door.

Not two seconds after the door to the stall closes, the door to the ladies' room swings open.

**************************

"Eve?"

"Tracy!" you exclaim, trying to mask your dismay. Carolyn's secretary's presence meant only one thing: Carolyn was looking for you. Or them.

"I'm sorry; I don't mean to intrude, but Carolyn has been looking for you and Ms.Oksana. I tried calling your desk several times, but no one answered. And no one was in the office, so I thought I'd try here..."

She stopped and sniffed the air.

Jesus, she can smell us, you think, panic coursing through you. You let out a fake little laugh that normally would have made you shudder.

"Yes, I had to use the restroom. Just finishing up here. And we uh – that is, I came to see if uh..." You think wildly, trying to make sense. Your first inclination had been to say that you were fixing your makeup or your hair, but there was no makeup or brush in sight. "...see if they had replaced the tampons in the machine."

Tracy looks at you in puzzlement. You walk over to the machine that dispensed those feminine products.  
"Yep, it looks like they did. Never know when you might need one of these things, you know. Goodness!" You know you are babbling but can't seem to stop.

"Eve," Tracy interrupts, apparently having heard enough, "Carolyn would like to see you. Immediately. Where is Ms.Oksana?"

"I think she's around somewhere." You say, trying your damnedest best not to sound concerned.

Tracy looks at you expectantly, clearly expecting you to follow her out.

"I'll find Oksana, and then," you begin.

"That won't be necessary. I can go find her; you should just head on to Carolyn's office. It seemed urgent." This last line was directed pointedly at you.

"Oh, all right," you grumble, not trying in the least to hide your irritation.

If the other woman was surprised by this attitude, she didn't let on, for which you were extremely grateful. After thinking about what Tracy could have walked in on, you count your blessings.

Once at their destination, you are quickly ushered into Carolyn's office.

"Where's Villanelle?" Carolyn looks at you over the rim of her glasses.

You open your mouth to respond, but, as it turns out, you didn't have to. The subject in question answered for herself.

"I'm right here."

You whip your head around so fast it hurts. Villanelle must have rushed out as soon as you and Tracy had left. She looked immaculate, while you felt – and was certain that you looked – completely frazzled.

Carolyn gestured for both of you to sit. Villanelle did so fluidly, while you went about it a little more gingerly.

Was it your imagination, or did Carolyn sniff at them? God, she couldn't smell you, could she? The possibility positively mortifies you.

Clamping your legs together as tightly as you could, you stare at Carolyn as she begins to speak. None of her words register. You can see her lips moving, could even vaguely hear the sounds that were coming out of her mouth, but none of it made sense.

You are still wet. What if you left a stain...? Oh, God.

Villanelle was sitting, utterly at ease, in her chair. Her face was a little flushed, but for the most part, she seemed completely relaxed. God, what were you thinking! You had told yourself it was a bad idea, over and over.

You had told yourself that even as you unbuttoned your blouse while waiting for Villanelle. You had told yourself that even as you threw Villanelle against the wall and practically assaulted her, but you had gone ahead and done it anyway. Well, now you were paying the price for behaving like a horny teenager. What the hell was Carolyn saying anyway? You sigh a little in irritation and fight the urge to slug Villanelle.

Carolyn notices that your attention is not entirely focused on the meeting. "Eve, is everything all right?"

"Yes. Fine." You congratulate yourself on the slightly bored affectation of your voice, conveying that she had no reason to ask in the first place.

It worked, and Carolyn's brow furrowed. "In that case, there isn't much more to say. You can get started on the case early next week. "

You open your mouth to ask what it was exactly that you were supposed to do, but immediately think better of it. No doubt that had been covered when you had zoned out. The important thing to consider now was how you'd get out of there with some dignity intact.

Villanelle stood up quickly, as did Carolyn. You were afraid to stand. What if the wetness had seeped through your skirt and onto the chair? It was really too bad that these chairs weren't made of leather, which would have made such an event fairly easy to hide.

You tried not to glare at the two women who were looking at you with expectancy, and a little confusion.

"Uh...Eve?" Villanelle raised an eyebrow. Damn her.

"Are you okay, Eve?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. I think it was something I ate. I guess it wasn't very good."

"Very well, then, we are done here."

You breathe a sigh of relief and quickly head towards the door.

"Oh," Carolyn's voice stops both of you before you can leave the room, "Do try and show some modicum of self-restraint the next time the both of you feel the urge to shag on my time. Take it home, will you?"

If only the ground could swallow you up, right at this moment.

Well, it's not like you were going to have sex, ever again.

************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having them work in the same office is probably unrealistic, but it does make for some fun/awkward encounters :P  
> As always, your thoughts and feedback is much appreciated!!


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